Your Hand in Mine
by Miharu is Haruka's Love Child
Summary: They weren't just ordinary gloves. They would propel the two men into the criminal spotlight, setting a chain reaction the likes of which the world had never seen. Violence. Cussing. MxM yaoi


Chapter 1: Matt's Gloves

A/N: I haven't published anything in ages for two reasons: the first being that my laptop is completely useless and unfixable. The second is that I haven't felt like writing. No writer's block or anything. Sorry.

This is a quick story for xxbeyondxbirthdayxx, because I woke up in the middle of a dream about her, and zombie-walked to a nook where I e-mailed typed this bitch. Fucking plot bunnies are literally fucking XD. I predict this will be 3 or so chapters long. :D I'm typing it fast, so it's not as umn...detailed as some of my other stories, but I hope you enjoy this rush-paced style anyways because it /does/ have its merits.

* * *

"Calm the bloody fuck down, will you? I only turned the sound off. I wouldn't have touched your damn game if you'd only plugged your headphones in like I'd asked you to."

"I'm going to kill you."

"Tch. I'd like to see your scrawny ass try," the blond boy huffed, "You couldn't even make a dent in a marshmallow. You only move when you need to eat or take a piss, and I doubt all the button mashing you do will translate into any actual physical strength."

It had been only two days since _it_ began. What exactly _it _consisted of, neither boy could be sure, but what began as a simple room change—one that paired Matt and Mello in the same room—had swiftly escalated to an all-out territorial war. Not a single person in Wammy's House was willing to stand in between the inhabitants of room 19C. Roger, the caretaker for the orphanage, couldn't understand; neither Matt nor Mello had ever caused problems with their previous roommates, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that the current problem was likely to end in bloodshed.

So the two boys were left to deck it out over the tiniest infringements of personal space.

"You…you touched it with your bare hands!" The redhead cried indignantly "You. Must. NEVER touch the console with your bare hands. Your fingers will contaminate it will oils…"

_Slap._ The blond boy was too impatient to listen to the redhead's ramblings and simply moved towards violence. He grabbed Matt's handheld and bashed it into his cheek, hoping the shut the other boy up. Mello just wanted to study his books but the other kid just had to be so goddamn _noisy_ with his incessant chatter and his _plip blip blip _game sounds and it simply had to end.

Matt rubbed his cheek and tried not to cry, but he failed when the blood from his nose dripped onto his gameboy. He let out a war cry and leapt at his foe, fists flying.

Matt was like a cat. And someone had just sprayed him with water.

The blonde boy stood and drew up his full height—which wasn't very impressive considering he was only 9 years old—and gripped the other boy's neck between his slender fingers. He pressed into the flesh with his nails, leaving a necklace of bright burning crescents. Mello was somewhat aware of a knocking sound but chose to ignore it because Matt's face was turning red and he wanted to see it turn purple. And even when Roger was pulling him off of Matt, his desire to choke the little bastard to death was enough that Roger had to strap him to chair. And then bolt the chair to the ground so Mello couldn't hurl himself at Matt.

_It_…the unnamed conflict between Matt and Mello, seemed beyond simple childish bickering. And yet, as daunting as the task seemed, Roger vowed to sever the violent atmosphere between the boys, if not for their sake, for the other children living under that roof. He appealed to his colleague Quillish and together they devised a plan.

* * *

"We're in the middle of Nowhere Ville."

"Just shut the fuck up."

"Roger said we're supposed to learn how to get along. Could you put in a _little _effort?"

"Shut the fuck up, _please_."

After packing several personal items, both boys were driven away from the main building structure and led to a small cabin some 15 miles into a forest grounds that Mr. Wammy owned. They were unceremoniously dumped and told to "fend for themselves" for one month. Food supplies were to be delivered to the cabin weekly, but Matt and Mello were completely isolated within a 3 mile radius, and were surrounded by electric fencing and cameras. There was a wooden cabin affixed with two beds and a table with only one chair, which in either boy's opinion was just asking for trouble. It was a prison just for the two of them.

"Don't you think Roger's a bit perverted with all the surveillance crap?"

"I don't care. I'm bored. They didn't let us bring much with us."

"I can't believe I'm stuck here for an entire month with you."

"Sucks to be us."

"Sucks to be _you_. I love being me."

"Give it a rest Narcissus."

Matt was the first to break. Roger hadn't let either boy pack anything electronic and Matt was like a druggie suffering withdrawals. He would hum the theme songs of his favorite games and twitch his fingers as if he was playing some invisible console. To top matters, he would randomly blow up at Mello for absolutely no reason. His irritability drove Mello insane and both boys flew into a flurry of swearwords and stick swords at the slightest word. Two weeks into the unsavory living arrangements, Matt decided he just couldn't deal with being around Mello 24 hours a day any longer. He saw his chance when Mello went outside to use their makeshift lavatory (a ditch really, with a bucket of water to serve as a bidet). Matt couldn't move the table to block the door because it, along with the room's single chair, had been bolted to the floor (presumably for his own safety in the case that Mello turned ridiculously violent). His only item of choice was to use the beds. He pushed the bed towards the cabin's door and after moving three feet simply gave up. Matt's lack of physical strength made it impossible to push the entire bed even nearly the whole way so the redhead resorted to taking it apart. He worked quickly to strip the bedding and mattress from the frame and moved it again—slowly—towards the door. Once it was close enough, he lifted the frame edge that was closest to the door and clipped it over the door's handle. It wasn't easy work, but with that kind of weight on the handle, Matt was sure that Mello wouldn't be able to actually open the door and that afforded him at least a few hours of blissful Mello-free time…at least until Matt had to go outside to use the bathroom. He replaced the mattress and the pillows but didn't know how to fix the sheets and didn't bother trying. It wasn't like there was any need to make the bed anyways. Lucky for Matt, Mello took a really long time going to the bathroom and walking around so by the time the blond boy had returned to the cabin, Matt was fast asleep and his trap was already set in full swing.

As the gamer boy's predictions held, Mello became extremely frustrated. No matter how many times he turned the knob and pushed the door, it wouldn't budge.

"Matt, I'm hungry. Let me the fuck in you bastard!"

As Mello's pleas fell on deaf ears, he decided to try another way to get into the cabin. That alternate route presented itself in a broken down log, which Mello brought to the cabin's one window. The glass wasn't thin, but it shattered nastily when the boy cracked the log shard at it. The sound of glass bits hitting the wooden floor were hard to ignore. Matt woke up with a jolt and turned towards the sound. The sight he saw simply horrified him! After all the effort he'd put into keeping Mello out, Mello was actually breaking back into the cabin. Matt froze as he watched the other boy hoist himself through the window, despite cutting himself up on the glass edges. Mello screamed when he landed on the floor—and a particularly large piece of glass went straight into his foot. Matt's horror turned into panic as Mello rolled, cradling his bleeding appendage.

"Ahh! What were you thinking? Omygod you're bleeding. You're bleeding. You're bleeding. What hell?"

"Get me something to stop the blood with, stupid!"

Matt grabbed the discarded bed sheets and threw them at Mello in his panic. Mello wrapped his foot in the sheets and rolled away from the broken glass while Matt used a pillow to try to sweep all the shards into a pile.

"Omygodomygod don't bleed to death please!" Matt had little experience with injuries and rightly terrified that Mello's cut wouldn't stop bleeding.

The sight of the blood freaked him out so much that he actually started crying. Out of his pocket he drew a crystal rosary and collapsed on the floor with folded hands and closed eyes. The links were long enough that it would make a befitting necklace, and the bit of light streaming in from the broken window reflected through the beads until a beam hit Mello square in the eyes.

"Ouch. You're getting the reflection in my eyes, genius."

"Sorry."

"I didn't peg you for the religious type."

"Umn. I'm not really," Matt unfolded his hands, "Actually I lived with this old lady for a while and she used to do this whenever something bad would happen. I don't know how to pray even, but it always calmed her down so I figured it couldn't hurt. It's like a good luck charm. I always have it my pocket. To remind me."

Mello was taken slightly aback. The way Matt had said that…could he have meant that…? Oh that was just…

"I don't mean to pry, but when you say that you _used_ to live with her, do you mean?"

Matt sighed and sat next to Mello, "Yeah. Heart attack."

Mello's eyes widened, "Sorry."

"It's not your fault. I'm sure you've got your own story."

Both boys sat in silence, Mello cradling his foot.

After a few minutes Mello decided to break the silence. "Why in the damn hell did you lock me out?"

"I didn't think you'd break in through the window! How fucking stupid can you get? I'd have let you back in eventually, dumbass."

"I guess I was just so pissed at you that the thought of hurting myself didn't deter me from the thought of hurting you more."

At that, both boys began laughing. Well until Mello kicked his foot on the floor and started crying again and Matt felt sorry for him enough to help wrap up the wound some more.

"Umn…Here, I know it's not much, but why don't you eat this chocolate I found in the food box while I try to get Roger's attention about the situation. I'm sure if I start waving my arms like a maniac in front of the cameras, he's bound to know something's wrong."

But Matt was too tired from his first try at moving the bed and it was decided that the boys would have to wait for the next day when they knew a new food delivery would come. Matt helped Mello limp onto the bed and they sat there in awkward silence for a while.

After a while, Matt broke the silence, suddenly feeling like they were the two biggest idiots in the world.

"Why are we even fighting? I don't remember what started it."

"You said I looked like a girl, remember?"

"Eh? Did I? I don't remember that, honest."

"The hell? It happened like the moment I walked in the room. That was when I threw that apple at your head."

"Oh yeah," Matt patted the back of his head, "It still hurts. But I swear, I don't remember calling you a girl. But I mean, it's not like I was trying to piss you off or whatever."

"Yeah. Whatever Mushroom Man."

"Mushroom Man?" Matt raised his eyebrow, "Is that like supposed to be my nickname or something? That's kind of—"

"Would you prefer to be called Dipshit?"

"Mushroom Man's good. Just so long as I can call you Goldilocks."

Mello rolled his eyes and punched him hard on the shoulder, "Whatever, _Matt_."

Well at least they'd stopped trying to kill each other. Physically, anyways.

* * *

Roger's experiment was a success—at least to the extent that he'd avoided major damage. Having to bandage up Mello for cutting himself with glass seemed like a small price to pay as long as the boys weren't fighting anymore. But he couldn't be sure that he wasn't simply in the eye of the storm. The calmness between Matt and Mello in the weeks after their punishment seemed almost too calm…as if they were putting on an act to catch him off guard. Roger wasn't willing to take chances. He called Mello into his office.

"You're going to America."

Mello swallowed. Was he being kicked out? Would that mean he didn't get to study under the special Wammy's scholarship that trained orphans in order to find a successor for the great detective L? Would…would he be out on the streets again?

"Look Roger, I know we caused quite a bit of trouble, but everything's worked out between us and I think you're just overreacting about the whole—"

"Mello, L wants me to send you away."

Mello cried. He didn't know who L was, well none of the children _really _knew who L was, but Mello understood that L was the reason he was allowed to live at Wammy's and he liked the way he life was beginning to be a bit less crappy. And filled with things like a warm bed to sleep in every night and regular meals.

"Look, I know I've been bad but don't you think that's a little extreme. I swear I'll never—"

"It's an exchange program."

"Huh?"

"There's actually a sister orphanage to this one in the United States and we're wondering if it wouldn't be beneficial for some of the children to move back and forth regularly between. It's actually to increase your field knowledge and widen your contacts list. Their resources are our resources and ours are theirs. This isn't something we do with all the children, you'll have to understand. You're not the only one being sent there. There's another boy from our sister orphanage in Prague who you'll meet. I believe his name is Near. You'll be expected to get along with him. Over the next year, the two of you will be monitored together and your progress with how well you adapt to your new resources will be used to determine if we should regularly sent between orphanages. This isn't a punishment. It's an honor."

Mello didn't know what to say. He simply accepted the things Roger told him.

"So when do I have to leave?"

"Tonight. Well, in three hours, actually."

"Th-three hours?" Mello slipped in his chair.

That was rather abrupt to say the least. Mello thought of all the things he could and couldn't take care in the time he had left. He stood to leave, but stopped short of the door.

Roger didn't miss the boy's hesitation, "Yes, Mello?"

"Can you go on an errand with me Roger? There's something I need to buy before I leave."

"I wouldn't advise it. I could send you anything you'd need."

But Mello didn't give up, "It's important. Really. Can't be done later."

The blond boy explained the situation to the elderly man and by the time he was finished with his request, the ghost of a smile appeared on Roger Ruvie's lips.

"Yes, Mello," the old man gave in, "I can do this for you at least."

The small request actually monopolized the little bit of time Mello had left, so when he returned, he'd completely missed dinner and had to hastily put all the things he'd travel with into his bag. He had nearly no time to do more and certainly couldn't say so much as a goodbye to anyone, much less tell them where he was going. But the package he'd gotten with Roger were more than enough, in his mind, to convey all the things that would never be said.

Mello pulled a piece of paper out of the desk and hastily wrote a note to his companion, inadequately relaying his feelings:

_Roger's sending me on a little vacation, I can't tell you where I'm going but I'll be back eventually. Keep my side of the room clean, bitch. Here's a little present to keep you from getting lonely while I'm gone. I'm sorry I'm not there to give these to you in person. This makes up for that time I touched your Gameboy with my bare hands, right?_

Mello placed the package on the bed and tossed the note to the side before he left the bedroom with his travel bag. He unconsciously touched the glass cross that now hung around his neck as he closed the door behind him. The morning after the window accident, he'd found it tucked into his folded hand. Matt had refused to take it back. Just like Mello refused to _look _back into the room after he'd closed the door.

The door remained closed until Matt entered the room after dinner, several hours later.

"Mello? I didn't see you at dinner so I brought you this pudding cup."

Matt didn't know that Mello was already on a plane to America by the time he walked into their shared bedroom, but when saw how utterly void of..._stuff_...the other side of the room was, he knew someone wasn't quite right. He placed the food on Mello's desk and looked for any signs of the blond without success. Matt gave up and decided to sleep a bit. After all the fiascos he and Mello had caused in the past weeks, Roger had probably moved Mello into another room to avoid further conflict. Although that was kind of pointless at this point since the boys were more than tolerating each other. Well...maybe tolerating wasn't quite the word...Matt still wanted to hit Mello with a baseball. And a brick.

But when Matt went to his own bed, there was a small brown bag that definitely hadn't been there before. He grabbed it upside down and the contents spilled out onto the bed—gloves soft black leather that seemed to caress the down quilt, waiting to slip onto the twitchy fingers of the redheaded boy. Matt picked up the small adjacent card and read the inscription—the first and only apology from Mello that the redhead would ever recieve. And the shock of the gesture had Matt crying in stunned silence. Those gloves were not simply a gift from a boy he'd been fighting with. They were to become a safety net, a bit of courage-inducing black magic handed off to Matt. Just for Matt. The moment the gamer boy slipped the gloves onto his hands, he'd activated an enchantment. In that moment, like a never-to-be-broken spell, the boy's animosity vanished and his admiration for the blond boy skyrocketed. In that moment, from that small gesture, a frightening bond of codependency and loyalty was born, the likes of which, years later, would turn Matt into Mello's personal lapdog...the likes of which would defy death gods and mafia lords. In that moment, the submissive half of the most conniving duo of conspirators to ever study under the tutelage of the great detective L, was born.

Matt's new gloves, seemingly a peace offering between two quarreling children, would be the catalyst for some of the world's most infamous international scandals. With a simple pair of leather gloves, the entire world would spin into chaotic disaster. But the story of how Matt and Mello became the world's most wanted criminals doesn't begin with how Matt got his gloves.

The real story actually begins with Mello, a year later in the gritty basketball court of a Los Angeles High school...

* * *

To Be Continued. I think...two or so more chapters? okay see you later byeee

Leave a review if you feel inclined. Or not.


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